2024.01.18
The name "Jane" etched on the paper was more than a signature; it was a declaration that she was still here, still fighting, still alive.
在一面破碎的鏡子殘骸中，珍的倒影凝視著她，碎裂卻堅定。她的臉上塗滿了她所躲避的廢棄房屋的塵土和污垢，述說著生存與抗爭的故事。鏡子如同她的過去一般破碎不堪，但她的意志卻依然堅不可摧。
珍曾是藝術界的寵兒，一位其畫作能俘虜所有目光的畫家。但當社會因一場災難性的事件崩潰時，她熟悉的世界在一夜之間瓦解，留下她在一片缺乏美和秩序的景象中為自己而戰。她穿著破破爛爛的衣物，勉強保護自己免受新現實的嚴酷。珍為尋找食物和補給品而翻遍廢墟，總是在移動中以避開荒廢中潛伏的危險。她曾細膩的雙手，如今長滿了老繭且強壯，成了她生存的工具，硬生生地撬開通往被遺忘之地的大門，尋找任何可能有用的東西。
她在這所房子裡找到了如此之地，它破敗的牆壁和天花板向天空敞開。在這混亂之中，她發現了那面破碎的鏡子，它的碎片不僅反射出她的形象，更反映了她的靈魂。珍看到了她的韌性、她的痛苦、她的希望。這促使她拿出她曾經搶救出來的木炭和紙張，開始繪畫。
隨著每一筆的勾勒，珍將她的精髓倾瀉在紙上，她的臉從線條和陰影的混亂中逐漸浮現。這不僅僅是一幅畫像；這是她不屈不撓精神的證明。當她完成時，她將畫作放在鏡子旁邊，一個無聲的宣言：即使在迷失了方向的世界，依然可以創造美，依然可以找到希望。
當太陽下山，長長的陰影覆蓋了她臨時的工作室，珍打包了她那些微薄的財產，包括那幅肖像。她會將它隨身攜帶，作為自己是誰以及仍然可以成為誰的提醒。紙上刻著的“珍”不僅是一個簽名；它是一個宣言，表明她仍在此，仍在戰鬥，仍在生存。
In the remnants of a shattered mirror, Jane's reflection stared back at her, fragmented yet resolute. Her face, smeared with the dust and grime of the abandoned house she had taken refuge in, told a story of survival and defiance. The mirror, like her past, lay in ruins, but her will remained unbroken.
Jane had once been the darling of the art world, a visionary whose paintings captivated the imaginations of all who beheld them. But the world she knew crumbled overnight when society collapsed under the strain of a catastrophic event, leaving her to fend for herself in a landscape bereft of beauty and order.
Clad in tatters that barely protected her from the harshness of her new reality, she scavenged for food and supplies, always on the move to avoid the dangers that lurked in the desolation. Her once delicate hands, now calloused and strong, were her tools for survival, prying open doors to long-forgotten places in search of anything useful.
One such place was this house, with its broken walls and ceilings open to the sky. In the midst of the decay, she found the shattered mirror, its shards reflecting not just her image, but her soul. Jane saw her resilience, her pain, her hope. It compelled her to pull out the charcoals and paper she had salvaged and begin to draw.
With each stroke, Jane poured her essence onto the paper, her face emerging from the chaos of lines and shades. It was not just a portrait; it was a testament to her indomitable spirit. When she finished, she placed the drawing next to the mirror, a silent proclamation that even in a world that had lost its way, beauty could still be created, and hope could still be found.
As the sun set, casting long shadows over her makeshift studio, Jane packed her meager belongings, including the portrait. She would carry it with her as a reminder of who she was and who she could still become. The name "Jane" etched on the paper was more than a signature; it was a declaration that she was still here, still fighting, still alive.
